


Warmed Towels

by elenathen



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Accidental Voyeurism, Bottom Severus Snape, Harry is a Little Shit, Hurt/Comfort, Invisibility Cloak, M/M, Making Love, Porn With Plot, Sirius Black Lives
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-31
Updated: 2018-03-31
Packaged: 2019-04-16 08:51:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,054
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14161203
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elenathen/pseuds/elenathen
Summary: Convinced that Snape is plotting something, Harry and Ron venture into the Potion Master's quarters to spy on their professor, and get much more of a show than they bargained for.





	Warmed Towels

"I think he's hiding something."

"You always think he's hiding something, Harry. Can't you just leave the man alone?"

Harry stared at Hermione from across the common room coffee table, his facial expression a cross between astonishment and mild horror. Hermione glanced up from her parchment, her eyes flickering to his face for a moment before dutifully returning to her essay where she proceeded to document the characteristics of a bowtruckle. Leaning back on the red plush sofa, Harry shoved Ron's feet out of the way as he waited for her continuation, which didn't come. Normally, Ron would have sided with him and the short silence would have been filled by his voice, but in this particular instance, their redhead companion had passed out next to Harry on the sofa; so it was just the two of them.

"Are you serious, Hermione?" Harry demanded after a moment or two of silence, setting down the glass of orange juice he'd been milling over for the past twenty minutes. "It's Snape!" he exclaimed, looking down at Hermione's bushy head as she wrote. Without looking up, the Gryffindor girl sighed and, after jotting down a few last words, proceeded to lecture him.

"Harry, we all know you dislike him ㅡyour hatred is rather infamousㅡ but that doesn't mean you can blame him for everything that's wrong in the world."

"But, Hermione! He's a death eater!" Harry interjected, trying to push his case.

"Was," Hermione retaliated, pointing at him with the back end of her quill. "You, of all people, know that he works for Dumbledore."

"That's just what he wants you to think!" Harry insisted. "He works for Voldemort, everybody knows that. Where do you think he goes on those days we have a sub?"

Rolling her eyes, Hermione dipped the end of her quill into her ink pot and returned to her essay. "I've heard he goes down to the village, or sometimes to London," she supplied. Harry opened his mouth to spew more accusations, but Hermione's logic beat him to it.

"He's also a human being, Harry; there are such things as buying socks or getting sick." She finished off her essay as she spoke, trying to squish in as many words as she could on the last square inch of the parchment. After pausing for a moment to reread the last few sentences, she reached forward to tap off the end of her quill and close her ink well with a sense of finality.

"I think you should just forget about it," she said, pushing the parchment off to the side and moving to lean on her elbows. "Nothing's actually happened; you've just finally noticed that Snape has his own life."

"Is it his own life, Hermione?" Harry demanded. "Or is it him going to secret meetings andㅡ"

"Oh, will you stop it?" Hermione asked shrilly, smacking her hand down in between them and causing Harry to jump. "You ramble on and on about how he's a horrible man, a death eater, plotting to overthrow the universe. Who cares?! Can't you just leave it for once?"

Harry gaped at Hermione's outburst, drawing away from the table as she pulled her hand back and ran it through her hair. Closing her eyes for a moment, she took a deep breath and tried to compose herself. She placed her hand back down on the table, balancing it on its side with her fingers pointed towards Harry.

"Snape is part of the Order, Dumbledore trusts him and ㅡif you care to recallㅡ he saved your life in first year," she began. "I agree that a lot of things he does are suspicious and that he's a bully, but that doesn't automatically mean he's always up to no good. For all we know, he could have a sick sister who he visits occasionally, or maybe he goes to a doctor or something. We don't know anything about him aside from what he gives off as a professor, so we don't have the right to accuse him with no evidence."

Harry made a face as he tried to come up with something to contradict her, but ㅡas alwaysㅡ Hermione was right. Harry didn't have any evidence that Snape was doing anything out of the ordinary other than that he took a day off every other month or so.

"I still think he's up to something, he usually is," Harry declared stubbornly, resorting to childishness instead of admitting defeat. Hermione groaned and dropped her head onto the table with a thunk. As many times as she tried to reason with him, he refused to comply to any bit of it.

Beside Harry, Ron had begun to stir, lifting his head and struggling to open his bleary eyes. Swallowing dryly and taking his time, he pushed himself up into a sitting position and cracked his neck, scrunching his eyes shut.

"I don't know what you lot are going on about," he said groggily. "But Hermione's probably right, whatever it is." Harry looked at him with a strange expression on his face, his eyebrows angled awkwardly and his nose curling up.

"That's rich," he said, searching Ron's face for some sort of jest. "Especially coming from someone who quite expertly called him a 'choice buboe of pus' earlier today."

Ron, who was still registering the fact that he was awake, screwed up his face in confusion, searching his mind in an attempt to recall who he'd supposedly insulted. "Who did I call a buboil?" he asked, rubbing at his eye. Harry stared at him.

"Snape?" he replied, looking at Ron expectantly. It took a moment or so for the Weasley boy to revive the memory, but when he did, he placed his hand over his eyes to try and wipe away the sleep.

"Oh, right. It's hard to keep track, y'know, what with Seamus and Neville producing excuses for insults every other minute."

"You're too hard on Neville, Ron," Hermione voiced, a smug expression of triumph still on her face from Ron's agreement with her, despite his lack of knowledge to what he was actually agreeing to. "He tries his best, you should be kinder to him." Ron snorted and reclined against the corner of the sofa, stretching out his legs and hitting Harry in the shoulder.

"Yeah, tries his best to--"  
"Ouch, Ron, piss off."  
"-- sorry mate-- he tries his best to make it to dinner on time and not much else."

Hermione frowned at Ron, rolling up her parchment in a dignified way and stuffing it into her bag. She reached around her head and began to tie up her hair, "You can go along saying rubbish like that about Neville, but in case you forgot, he was quicker to getting a date than either of you at the Yule Ball, and he helped Harry immensely in the Triwizard Tournament."

The mention of their lack of success with women snubbed Ronald instantly, and it was his turn to pout. "What were you two even talking about before?" he asked, attempting to change the subject. Hermione gave Harry a pointed look.

"Well, I think Snape's--"

"Don't you start again, Harry, for God's sake."

"What, he asked, Hermione!"

Ron lifted his hand and waved it at a furious Hermione, telling her to shush and only making her more annoyed. "Tone it down, 'Mione, I'm only askin'." Hermione made a frustrated sound and dropped her quill and ink bottle into her bag, slinging it over her shoulder and standing up.

"I'm not staying to listen to nonsense this all over again," she said to Harry and Ron before turning to head up the stairs to the girls dormitory, shaking her head in annoyance.

"What's her deal?" Ron inquired, turning back to Harry as Hermione's hair disappeared in her ascent up the stairs. Harry rolled his eyes and leaned onto one hand, untucking his shirt from his trousers to get more comfortable.

"She got all in a huff when I mentioned that I thought Snape was up to something," Harry replied, his tone incredulous as ever. Ron made a questioning expression similar to the one Harry had made earlier, raising his hand in the air a bit.

"But he's literally always up to something," Ron returned, supporting Harry's confusion towards Hermione's reaction. Harry nodded and reached for his neglected orange juice.

"I know, that's what I said," he agreed through mid-swallow. "She just kept going on about 'how he's a human being' and 'maybe has to go buy socks' or something mundane like that."

"Snape doesn't strike me as the type to take a day off just to buy socks," Ron supported, earning an enthusiastic nod. "He doesn't strike me as the type to take a day off at all, to be honest. Though frankly, he should do it more often; the greasy git."

Harry downed the rest of his juice and put the glass back onto the table, giving Ron an intense look. "I've had an idea," he said, moving closer to him and dropping his voice a little, "I don't know why I never thought of it before."

"What?" Ron asked, "Are you going to slip something into his tea or whatever?"

"No, don't be ridiculous," Harry replied, slight scorn on his face for such a juvenile suggestion. "My father's invisibility cloak, Ron." Ron stared at him for a moment, one eyebrow raised.

"I thought we were talking about Snape," he said, his voice sounding a little lost and making Harry create a sort of 'tsk' sound.

"We are, Ron. I'm talking about using the cloak to get into Snape's rooms and get a good look at what he's up to." Realization dawned on Ron's face, and was soon accompanied by eager approval. He glanced around the common room to make sure that no one was eavesdropping, and then would drop his voice like Harry's.

"You mean like, sneak in his room and look through all his files and letters and stuff?" he asked, not really for confirmation. Harry nodded; it was such a simple plan, and he was quite surprised that they hadn't discussed it before.

"We're bound to find something suspicious. He's probably got loads of letters and crap from death eaters, keeping him updated on what Voldem--"

"How many bloody times, Harry?" Ron demanded, shivering a little and cutting him off. Ron hated hearing Voldemort's name, and even though Harry had no issue saying it, it still made him vastly uncomfortable. Harry muttered a brief "sorry" before getting back on topic.

"He hasn't taken a day off in a while," Harry began, trying to remember the last time their potion's master had been absent from a class. "I reckon he's probably going to take another one soon, so maybe we can get in there and find out what he's planning." Ron nodded his agreement and checked the clock above the fireplace.

"It's getting a bit late, we don't have time to do it tonight, do we?" he asked Harry, whose eyes joined him in reading the time. It was nearing ten thirty, and although Snape wasn't exactly normal, Harry was sure they had missed their chance for the evening, as many of the other teachers were likely headed to their quarters.

"We can do it tomorrow," Harry told him, looking away from the clock and back at Ron's freckled face. "Fill up on lunch, and maybe sneak some sandwiches or pasties up to the dormitory, and then we'll go while Snape is at supper."

"Alright," Ron said, “We can take off once dinner's started and get back out before it's over. That's plenty of time." Harry stood from the sofa and glanced around the room again, leaning over to Ron.

"Meet me at the stairs to the dungeon just before supper; I'll have my cloak."

  
Class the next day was uneventful as usual, until their four 'o' clock potions class rolled around and Parvati's cauldron decided to grow four times its size, and then explode all over Draco Malfoy's robes, sending hot, bright orange potion sizzling down his front. Parvati swore she'd never work with Seamus ever again, and attempted to apologize to Draco, but her frantic words were drowned out by the Slytherin's melodramatic wails of pain as he was rushed out of the classroom to the hospital wing by Professor Snape, who looked angrier than ever.

Harry and Ron were only some of those who had to stifle their laughter until Snape had hauled Draco out of the classroom, and they joined the others congratulating Seamus for adding too much baboon urine. Hermione was scolding them for laughing at Draco's pain, even though she too secretly was quite glad that he was sitting so close to Seamus.

By the time supper arrived, Harry was anxious with anticipation for what was to come. He was standing in a small cranny near the top of the stairs descending to the dungeons, staying silent and hidden as troupes of Slytherins headed off to the Great Hall for food. The hallway quieted down after a few minutes, and he leant against the wall, straining his ears for Ron's footsteps. Finally, he heard the hushed sound of someone tall attempting to walk quietly, and Ron appeared around the corner, looking around for Harry.

"Hey, Ron," Harry said, not worrying about being quiet yet. His voice made Ron jump nearly a foot in the air, his head swiveling towards the sound and staring at the empty space with annoyance.

"Blimey, Harry, you never said you'd have the cloak on."

“Sorry, come on, get under.” Harry lifted the cloak to reveal his lower half, and Ron crouched to join him. They started their way towards the stairs, glancing around every now and again to make sure that Snape wasn’t approaching from anywhere.

“Is alohomora going to work?” Ron asked once they began to near the almost hidden door of Snape’s personal rooms.

“I’m not sure,” Harry said, keeping his voice low, “But we can always come back another time with Hermione if it doesn’t.” Ron made a face.  
“You know what she said, she’d never come with us to break into a professor’s rooms. She’d probably rather miss an exam than do something like that.” Harry laughed a little and gave Ron a shove.

“Alright, be quiet, I’m going to unlock the door.” Ron quieted down and stepped back a bit to give Harry room. Harry lifted his wand outside of the cloak and pointed it at the lock, “Alohomora.” Surprisingly, the door unlocked quite easily, and the handle lifted at the spell. Harry gave Ron an amused look, and then pushed the door in as quietly as he could, stepping into the entrance way of Snape’s apartment.

It was brighter inside than Harry had expected, and much cleaner too. The walls were the same stone colour as the rest of the castle, but they looked like they were cleaned regularly, and on them hung some interesting maps and diagrams of plants. A very large window stretched all the way along the top of one wall, evidently stopping where the ground met the side of the castle, but still letting in a nice amount of light to make the apartment almost cozy-looking. A long table stood against the same wall, littered with vials, cauldrons, books and different dried plants; obviously a workstation with a sort of organized chaos look to it.

Another room opened off of this main one, and it appeared to be a small kitchen, rather like most of the muggle kitchens Harry had seen. There seemed to be something baking in the kitchen, for a gentle smell of vanilla wafted out to greet their noses, adding a pleasant note to their entrance. That puzzled Harry, because he would never suspect that Snape would bake, nor that his living space would ever smell of vanilla.

“It smells like something’s baking,” he whispered to Ron, who nodded and turned to look into the kitchen, a sort of bewildered look on his face.

“Cookies, it smells like,” he commented. “Strange.” But Harry didn’t have anything else to add to Ron’s comment, because he’d noticed something else rather strange. There were two armchairs in front of the fireplace, a leather jacket draped over the back of one, and a textbook sitting on the seat of the other.

“You don’t suppose Snape owns a leather jacket, do you?” Harry asked Ron, pointing to the garment. Ron moved forward to look at it curiously, then moving his eyes to the magazine on the arm of the chair.

  
“I don’t think he reads muggle motorcycle magazines either,” he said, looking at the cover of the magazine with interest.

A sound from another room suddenly jolted Harry and Ron back to their senses, and they fell silent underneath the invisibility cloak. It sounded like someone had turned on a faucet and was running a bath, then the sound changed, and it was unmistakably the falling sound of a shower, followed soon by a chorus of singing.

Ron turned to stare at Harry. The voice was certainly not Snape’s, but who on earth would be showering in their professor’s apartment? Harry was just about to say how the voice sounded familiar when the door opened behind them, and footsteps approached. Panicking, they moved as quickly, and as silently as possible towards the closest doorway, nearly stumbling over each other as they found their way into what was clearly Snape’s bedroom. Frozen, they huddled near the door and strained their ears, listening for who had come in after them.

Again, they were surprised. It wasn’t the low, silky voice of their professor, but instead a high pitched and very squeaky voice that sounded as though it came from very low to the ground.

“Master Sirius?” they called, the evident voice of a house elf, “Master Sirius?”

“Just in here, Moddie,” the voice from the shower called, slightly muffled by the sound of the water. At that, Harry was shaken with realization. The familiar voice was his godfather’s, and the Sirius that the house elf was referring to. His head whipped around to look at Ron, who was staring at him with an equally dumbfounded look.

“Sirius?” Ron hissed urgently, “Sirius is here? In Snape’s house?” Harry shrugged at him, just as confused and blown back.

“I don’t know,” he whispered back, “It sounds like it, but that would be mad.”

“You’re right it would be mad, what the bloody--”

“Ron, shh, the elf is talking again.”

The house elf, Moddie, had made their way over to the bathroom, wherever that was, and was calling to Sirius again. “Master Sirius, Master Snape asked me to bring you warmed towels at five thirty. Where should I put them?”

Sirius gave a surprised noise of excitement. “Warmed towels? How lovely, thank you Moddie, you can just put them by the door. And tell Sev that we’re out of lavender shampoo again.”

“Yes, Master Sirius, I will tell him right away, sir,” Moddie replied. Sirius called out another thank you from the shower, and after a few moments, Harry and Ron heard the door click shut again.

“Sev??” Ron repeated once the house elf was gone, “Harry, your godfather just called Snape Sev. And they’re out of shampoo-- who’s ‘they’??”

“I don’t know, Ron!” Harry said in a piercing whisper, smacking Ron on the arm so that he’d stop shaking his elbow. “I’m just as surprised as you are. Now shut up so we don’t get caught.”

They sat in silence for several more minutes, listening to Sirius hum in the shower and looking around at what they could see of the bedroom they were hiding in. It looked very similar to the other room, with a fireplace and the same long window, but it was dominated by a large, four-poster bed with dark curtains held off at the sides. A canopy hung over top, in an elegant victorian style, that matched the lampshades on the bedside tables on both ends. One table had a pair of glasses folded neatly on top of a notebook, with a pen and little cup of mints beside it. The other table was partially obscured from view, but it had several teacups on it, as well as an open box of biscuits and a novel.

It wasn’t long before the sound of the shower fell silent, and the door opened to the bathroom. Sirius was still humming, and after a few more minutes, there was the sound of an oven door opening and closing again, and the smell of vanilla was increased tenfold. Sirius then came walking into the bedroom, strolling right past where Harry and Ron were hiding, a housecoat wrapped loosely around him and a biscuit in between his fingers.

He dropped onto the bed and gave a languid stretch, taking a bite of the biscuit and continuing to hum. He lay there for a minute or two, and was nearly finished the biscuit when the sound of the door came again, this time quite harshly. The sound made Harry and Ron jump, but what followed after surprised them more than any of the other things had that evening.

“Hello, love!” Sirius called, his mouth full of crumbs. Ron’s mouth fell open, staring at Harry, but Harry couldn’t take his eyes off his godfather. Whoever had come through the door seemed to chuck something rather defeatedly on their way to the bedroom, and it was soon revealed that it was Snape, looking haggard and upset as he entered the room.

Sirius sat upright immediately, his face morphing into concern upon seeing Snape’s, “Sev…” he began, standing and tying the housecoat around himself properly before walking over to Severus. “Sev, what’s the matter? You look awful.”

Heaving a deep sigh, Snape leant forward onto Sirius’ shoulder once he was close enough, wrapping his arms tiredly around the latter’s waist. “I hate this job,” he groaned, tilting his head to the side. “It just drags on and on forever in a neverending series of explosions and stupid children.”

Ron made a face at that, and Harry had to clamp a hand fiercely on his arm to keep him still, giving him a piercing look that told him to shut up. He quickly returned his gaze to the two men in front of them, where Sirius was gently petting the professor’s hair, holding him in a gentle embrace.

“I understand, my darling. Come on, let’s get you sitting down; you’re exhausted.” Severus followed Sirius as he began to lead him to the bed, where he sat down in broken sort of way and leaned against Sirius’ shoulder the moment he joined him. Sirius let him sit there like that for a few minutes, holding his hand in a protective way and planting small kisses to his forehead every now and again.

“I’m not a good person, Sirius,” Severus whispered eventually. Sirius looked down at him and draped an arm around the black-clad shoulders.  
"Severus," Sirius began, his voice gentle as he lifted his hand to clasp his lover's face. "Severus, my darling one, listen to me." Severus looked up at him, watching Sirius’ eyes as he spoke.

“You’re good to me, Sev,” Sirius told him, caressing the side of his cheek with his thumb. “You’re good to me as a lover, as a person, as a partner; and to me that’s all that matters right now, alright?” Snape looked at him with a saddened expression, his hand finding its way into Sirius’ lap. He had opened his mouth to say something, but Sirius cut him off before he could.

“You sent me warmed towels, Sev.”

That made Severus smile very slightly. He said softly, “I thought you’d like that.” Sirius smiled back at him and pushed a lock of hair behind his ear.

“See? You’re good to me.” He finished by leaning closer to kiss Severus gently for a moment, cupping the back of his head and holding him close. On the floor, Ron’s nose wrinkled up in a mixture of disgust and confusion as Severus melted into Sirius’ chest, sliding his hand up to hold onto his shoulder.

“Harry, are you seeing this?” Ron mouthed to Harry, pointing to the display unfolding in front of them. Harry, whose face was tinged slightly pink, swatted Ron’s hand away and pressed a finger to his lips. He was slightly transfixed by the image of his godfather kissing his professor, but that didn’t fully erase the slight panic he had inkling in the back of his mind. How on earth were they going to get out of here? He wished they’d studied some sort of silencing charm so that they could slip away, but of course, the only person who knew one of those --Hermione-- wasn’t with them.

As he was running over possible escape plans in his head, Ron was still staring at the other two in front of them, his face steadily reddening as Sirius broke the kiss and began whispering things to Severus.

“I think you need to relax, my love,” he was whispering, shifting a little on the bed and slipping his hand down to start unfastening some of the tight buttons on Snape’s robes. Severus’ face filled with a warmth Harry and Ron had never seen before --nor had they ever hoped to see-- and he leant into Sirius more.

“Relax?” he repeated, his voice as soft as Sirius’, and equally as silky. “I suppose you’re going to help me with that?” Sirius grinned devilishly and suddenly pushed Severus down onto the bed, eliciting a small gasp from the latter. Harry felt himself tense as Sirius’ hands began to work their way down Severus’ chest.

“You know me so well, mi amor.” Severus smiled up at him as Sirius pressed their noses together, lifting a hand to slip into his lover’s dark curls.

“Ooh, was that Spanish?”  
Sirius smiled against Severus’ lips, pecking him gently and whispering, “Si, cariño.” Severus laughed and kissed him back as much as he could, letting his hands push open the tight doublet that was always buttoned so precisely over his chest. A light sigh floated up from the bed as Sirius’ hand worked its way up inside the shirt he wore beneath, his slightly cool fingers fluttering over Severus’ chest.

“Your hands are cold,” Severus told him, petting his hair lovinly and kicking off his shoes. He lifted his feet onto the bed and kissed Sirius’ forehead as a small “sorry” reached his ears. Sirius’ hands wandered all over his chest beneath his shirt, and small kisses began to fall along the exposed curve of his neck, prompting more sighs and very soft gasps.

“I’m going to make love to you,” Sirius whispered, pushing Severus’ robes off his shoulders and leaning up to kiss him before he could do anything else. His knee found its way between Severus’ legs and pressed gently against his groin, making Severus moan slightly into his mouth. Harry shifted uncomfortably under the invisibility cloak, biting his lip and willing himself to look away, but he couldn’t bring himself to.

Sirius made a satisfied sound as he gently pushed his tongue into Severus’ mouth, starting to undo the shirt his lover wore as Severus’ own hands went to the sash tied around his waist. Sirius only broke the kiss to discard the bathrobe and to pull the shirt off of Severus’ chest before latching their mouths together again. He was fully nude, and was intent on getting Severus to the same state, hooking his fingers into the waistband of his trousers and tugging at them.

Severus moaned slightly again as Sirius’ fingers found his nipple, giving it a soft pinch as his trousers were undone expertly and pushed off him. Ron recoiled as they landed on the ground only inches in front of him, drawing his feet up close to his chest and struggling not to stare.

“You’re so beautiful, Sev,” Sirius whispered huskily, his hand sliding up the length of Severus’ body. Severus keened into his hand and wrapped his arms around Sirius’ neck, opening his legs a little for him and leaning up to his lips again. Sirius straddled one of Severus’ thighs and ground his crotch into it slightly, drawing another weak sound from Severus and making his back tense.

Harry could feel heat pooling in his groin, and his face was far beyond the light flush he’d sported before. He turned to Ron and found that they were in similar situations, concluding that they needed to leave immediately. Glancing to his left, he saw that, thankfully, Snape had left the bedroom door open in his frustration, and that the gap was wide enough for both of them to get through without disturbing the door. Unfortunately, there was quite a bit of space between where they were, and the doorway, and it was getting increasingly difficult to stay quiet and focused.

A moan from the bed made Ron shiver, and he fought the urge to look up at what was happening, instead staring at Harry in a panic. Harry stared back at him, then mouthed silently, “Go”, and gestured towards the door.  
Occupied completely by each other, neither Sirius nor Severus heard as the two students began to inch along the floor in terror. The sound of the other was too overwhelming for any other to intrude, thankfully for Harry and Ron. After an agonizing five minutes of shuffling as silently as possible across the stone floor, they finally made it to the doorway, worming their way through it just as Severus gave out a high gasp, clinging to Sirius’ shoulders.

“ _Sirius_ ,” he moaned, arching up into his lover’s hand. Harry froze uncomfortably, as did Ron, but eventually they were moving again. By the time they had made it into the other room, the gasps were becoming a steady occurrence, as were the almost feral growls from Sirius praising his partner. They managed to stand once they were a few feet away from the bedroom door, and they began to tiptoe with the greatest care back towards the exit. His heart pounding heavily in his ears, Harry held his breath as they moved soundlessly past the kitchen, the worktable, and finally made it to the door.

Inching forward, Harry reached for the door latch, praying that his godfather and Snape were engrossed enough in their activity to not hear the gentle click of it releasing. Freezing for another few moments, he listened for any kind of change, but the moaning sound from the bedroom did not falter. Ushering Ron out into the corridor, he carefully closed the door behind himself before finally letting out a breath, gasping with relief and wiping his sweating forehead.

“Blimey,” Ron whispered, his eyes wide and his hand clamped over his groin. They stared at each other for quite a while, both still stunned into a blank silence before Harry whispered;

“Let’s just… go back to the common room, yeah?”

“...Yeah,” Ron replied, barely nodding his agreement. Harry lifted the cloak off of their heads and, awkwardly, they began to head back up to Gryffindor tower, feeling foolish and entirely dumbstruck.

Back inside of the apartment, Sirius was kissing Severus again, his hand moving along his lover’s cock in a smooth motion and tugging moans from his throat with each stroke. The movement of his hips against Severus’ thigh had increased, and he was grinding himself to precum along his leg. Severus pulled back from the kiss for a moment, his body arching up into Sirius’ hand and his fingers tangling in Sirius’ hair.

“I-I need you,” he whispered, his teeth catching his bottom lip and his face flushed a brilliant rosy hue. Sirius moaned lowly and dropped his head to kiss at his neck, continuing to grind against him for a few moments before pausing.

“Pass me your wand,” he said, looking around for wherever Severus could have placed it. Stretching, Severus reached for his robes, his breath still heavy as he pulled his wand from an inside pocket, handing it to Sirius. Sirius pointed it in between Severus’ legs, murmuring a lubrication spell and then placed the wand onto the bedside table. He dismounted Severus’ leg and pushed his creamy thighs open, rubbing his thumbs in small circles against the soft skin.  
Severus arched at the feeling and opened his legs even more, looking down at Sirius and smiling at him through his blush. “Make love to me,” he whispered, to which Sirius smiled lovingly. He leant forward and pressed himself against Severus’ entrance, leaning over him and whispering against his cheek.

“Say it again, Sev. Tell me what you want me to do.”

Severus moaned weakly at the feeling of Sirius’ cock, biting his lip and closing his eyes, “--Make love to me, Sirius,” he whispered back, his voice tight with pleasure. Sirius rubbed himself a few times over Severus’ hole, sighing at the sensation, before gently easing in the head of his cock.

Severus’ breath caught in the back of his throat. The lack of preparation made the first stretch sting a little, despite the lubricant, and it made him moan with the mixture of both pleasure and slight pain. Sirius paused for a few moments to let him adjust before slowly beginning to slide into the tight heat of his lover’s body. Moaning languidly, Severus clung to Sirius’ shoulders and kept his legs open widely.

His breath coming in small gasps, Severus let out a small moan of, “fuck,” once Sirius was fully inside of him. They lay like that, encapsulated in heat and pleasure for a few minutes, Sirius simply watching the flushed face of his lover and Severus enjoying the tight feeling of being completely filled. After a while, once the pressure had become rather intense, Sirius began to draw back, groaning at the sensation and making Severus sigh in pleasure.

Kissing lazily over Severus’ face, Sirius pushed back in again slowly, letting himself fill Severus all the way before drawing back again. He repeated the same motion several times, slowly filling his lover and pushing moans out of his parted lips.

Through his strained gasps, Severus began to beg for more, digging his fingers into Sirius’ shoulders and moaning, “More, Sirius, _more_.” Sirius complied, pushing in a little harder and drawing back almost all the way each time. Severus moaned his appreciation and tilted his head back, his eyes closing and his hands drifting up to tangle into Sirius’ soft, still damp hair.

Heat burned inside of Severus as Sirius pushed into him, his eyelashes fluttering and shivers of pleasure tingling up his spine in a delicious way. His breathing matched the pace of Sirius’ movements, and soon their chests were moving in sync, their lips colliding again in a mess of moans, heavy breaths and tongue.

Sirius was the first to finish, the warmth of his release filling Severus’ channel with a hot surge of his cock. Severus mewled as it filled him, his toes curling on the mattress and his fingers tightening in Sirius’ hair. Sirius continued to push into him, a little bit harder than before as he rode out his orgasm, moaning against Severus’ neck and then finally coming to a halt.

Groaning as he pulled out of Severus’ body, Sirius then moved to take hold of Severus’ cock again, leaning up to nip at his chest as he stroked him. Severus let out a gasp of Sirius’ name, turning towards him and pushing his hips into Sirius’ hand. After a moment or two, his hot cum spilled over Sirius’ quickly working hand, causing Sirius to groan again and lean up to kiss him, whispering, “I love you.”

Panting, they lay against each other for several minutes, Severus draping his leg over one of Sirius’ and resting his head against his chest. Through the silence, he eventually managed whisper a few things.

“You smell like ginger,” he muttered, pressing his nose into the hollow of Sirius’ chest. A short laugh came in response and Sirius pulled him close by one arm.

“That’s because I was making cookies for you, sweetheart.”

“Really?”

“Yes, darling. Think of it as your good karma for giving me those lovely warmed towels.”

**Author's Note:**

> Hello Spanish speaking ppl, I am not among you who speak such a beautiful language, but I wanted to include a few little snippets of it in here, just for extra spice. I did use an online translator, so if what I've written is not correct, just leave me a comment with the correct phrase and I will change it asap. Thank you <3


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